


Summer Heat

by thewesterndoor



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Canon Compliant, Drunken Confessions, Enthusiastic Consent, Fix-It, Fluff and Smut, Getting Together, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Training Camp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:48:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23376406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewesterndoor/pseuds/thewesterndoor
Summary: It's the first night of the Tokyo training camp and Ukai makes a bold confession to Takeda while drunk, but what will Takeda do?
Relationships: Takeda Ittetsu/Ukai Keishin
Comments: 20
Kudos: 419





	Summer Heat

**Author's Note:**

> I did my best with the logistical details but suspect that I'm probably pretty fast and loose. I couldn't remember if either the anime or the manga gave a specific location for where the camp was happening, so I thought why not Fukurodani?
> 
> Massive thanks to nekoshka for beta reading and helping to edit
> 
> Thank you for any comments and kudos ❤️

Summer hung thick and heavy in the restaurant. Keishin leaned back against the wall of the small private room, his head spinning with the booze and the heat. Sweat pooled at the small of his back and the crease of his elbows, and his wilted trousers and shirt clung damply to his body. Wearily, he stared at the table in the centre of the room where Takeda was still in an animated discussion with Coach Nekomata, Tanaka’s sister beside them slamming back her third—or maybe it was her fourth—beer. 

How did they manage it? Karasuno had left  _ early _ that morning for Tokyo and Takeda had given the practice games that followed his usual care and diligence. And Nekomata was just  _ old. _ But neither of the men showed any awareness of the heat that stole Keishin’s breath or gave any indication of slowing down.

_ Teachers _ , Keishin thought with grudging admiration.

Blearily, he tugged at the pocket of his pants and pulled out his phone to squint at the swimming numbers. It was already one-thirty and breakfast with the team was set for seven. He groaned at the thought, trying not to count out how many hours of sleep he could get if he left right now and went straight to bed.

“Ukai-kun, you don’t have to wait for me,” Takeda said, turning around to smile at Keishin.

Keishin knew he should take the out being given him. He should say goodnight and drag himself back to their shared room, but he couldn’t actually bring himself to leave.

“No, I’m fine. Just need some water and then I can keep going.”

His lies felt as weak as damp rice paper and from the gentle look in Takeda’s eyes he wasn’t buying it. 

“No, you look pretty beat. C’mon, let’s get you back,” Takeda said. He pushed himself up from his cushion, remarkably graceful for someone who’d put away as much beer as he had. “Coach Nekomata, thank you for this evening. We will see you first thing tomorrow.”

The old man grinned over his beer, his warm expression turning closer to a friendly sneer as his gaze moved to Keishin.

“Just like your grandpa, huh? He couldn’t hold his liquor either. You’ll have to do better tomorrow, Kei-kun.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Keishin said with a wave of his hand. “Believe me, it’s not your piss-water booze, it’s just this damn heat.”

“You young’uns are soft. In my day—”

Keishin didn’t bother to listen to the rest of the rant, instead focussing on standing up. With one palm pressed against the sticky laminate wall, he was able to struggle up to his feet. The movement did nothing to help the spinning; the world swayed and slurred, his legs turned to melted rubber.

A hand pressed against the small of his back, heat burning through the damp fabric. Takeda’s palm left a trail of prickling awareness on Keishin’s skin as it slid over his back and settled against his hip. When Takeda wedged himself against Keishin’s side and under his arm, the heat of his smaller body should’ve been unpleasant—Keishin should’ve wanted to push him away—but instead he leaned into him more fully. Like this, he could feel wisps of Takeda’s hair against his face, could feel how soft it was and catch the faint scent of coconut under the layers of sweat and beer.

“Let’s go,” Takeda said.

Together they moved to the entrance, sliding into their sandals and making final goodbyes to the other coaches, and then they were finally outside.

Outside, the air was still muggy and close, and the breeze drifting past was just enough to let them know it was there but not enough for any relief. Keishin tilted his head back to look up at the sky.

At home it would’ve been lit up with stars, the immense weight of the night sky pressing down, but here only a few pinpricks of light were able to shine through the haze of the streetlights.

“How are you doing?” Takeda whispered.

“I’m not really so bad, it’s just been a long day.” Keishin’s sigh turned into a yawn and he dropped his head down to rest on Takeda’s shoulder.

The vibrations of Takeda’s soft laugh moved through into Keishin’s own chest, and he had an inexplicable urge to be closer. For weeks the mild-mannered teacher had been slowly capturing more and more of his attention, working his way under Keishin’s skin until he just wanted...more. When he tilted his head a little, he realized that he had a brilliant view of the soft curve of Takeda’s jaw, of his soft curls backlit against the streetlights and the sparkle of amusement that glittered around his eyes.

“You look really pretty like this?” Keishin said before he could think to hold back the thought.

There was the briefest sensation of Takeda’s fingers tightening around Keishin’s waist and an answering flutter in his chest before they were back to that gentle hold. 

“When you’re drunk? Or in the dark?” Takeda said, voice light.

“No, in the...with the streetlights and shit. I bet you’d look fucking gorgeous in moonlight. You ever been out into the fields at home? Night like tonight and they go all silvery.”

“Oh?” There wasn’t so much as a hitch in Takeda’s gait and his voice was completely neutral.

“Yeah. When we get home, you should come out and see them. With me.”

“That sounds dangerously close to being a date.”

Keishin lifted his head up to get a better look at Takeda, pulling himself free of the other man’s arms.

“And so what if it is?” he asked, trying to seek out Takeda’s gaze. Maybe it was the booze or the exhaustion talking, but Keishin had no interest in being anything but direct.

“I’d say you’re drunk.” Takeda’s mouth twisted into a rueful expression.

“Only a little. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to. To go out on a date with you.”

Silence stretched between them, sharpening to a single line that strung them together. It was pure agony for Keishin to stand there, waiting, his heart thudding heavily in his chest and his gut twisting. But there was no response.

Takeda stared down at the ground, his eyelashes sooty crescents against his pale skin, his fingers twisting in front of him. The urge to reach forward, to still the nervous motion with his own hands, rose up in Keishin. But he’d already sobered up enough to know it wasn’t a good idea. At the best of times, Takeda had the look of someone who would spook.

“Ask me again tomorrow,” Takeda said, his gaze fixed on the ground in front of him.

“What?”

Finally, Takeda looked up and there was a surprising steely quality to his gaze. It was the same sort of expression that Keishin would sometimes see when Takeda had to dress down the team—that flash letting him know that beneath the frequently apologetic smiles and the unashamed begging, there was a core of something sterner. 

Keishin shivered at that look, swaying closer like the moths around them pulled in towards the street lamps.

“Ask me again tomorrow,” Takeda said, his words clear and slow and his gaze so direct. And hungry.

God, Keishin could feel the weight of that hunger against his body, chasing sparks along his skin, starting a low hum in his gut and sending it back threefold.

“If you still want to do something when you’re sober, then...” Takeda continued, his voice lower and his attention dropping to Keishin’s mouth, “then I’d be happy to discuss it with you.”

Keishin’s own gaze had dipped to Takeda’s mouth, watching the way his lips shaped the words, tracing the fullness of them with his eyes. He took a hesitant step closer and then leaned down until they were separated by just an inch or two.

With his lips by Takeda’s ear, tormented by the smell of coconut and the pale skin of his neck that was begging for marks to be left, Keishin whispered, “Tomorrow then.”

They finished the walk back to their room in silence, Takeda letting Keishin manage on his own. At the room, Takeda gathered a few items and hurried out.

Keishin worked his shirt over his head, letting it flutter limply to his feet, and then with increasingly slow movements started on his pants. Toeing them over to where his t-shirt still lay on the floor, he tried to convince himself that he should go take a bath, brush his teeth, even just put on the sweats and tank top he’d brought because he’d been through enough training camps to know there was no way he was sleeping in just his underwear. He still remembered with some horror the rainy night in high school when he’d had to huddle outside the dorm in nothing but his underwear and shoes because one rowdier kohai had set off the fire alarm making popcorn. But tonight…maybe tonight would be okay. The futon looked so comfy and his whole body felt so heavy.

It wasn’t until he heard the sound of the door opening and felt darkness sweep in through the stuffy room as Takeda turned out the light that Keishin realized he’d actually fallen asleep on top of the blankets. His thoughts were still hazy, sleep tugging him back, but he fought it enough to note the soft rustling of Takeda moving around the room, laying down on his own bed.

They were so close; sleepily, he imagined himself reaching out and tracing the lines of Takeda’s futon, seeking out the warmth of his hand, or maybe crawling over. Takeda always seemed like the sort of responsible adult who made sure to bathe before bed, and Keishin couldn’t help but wonder if the coconut scent would be stronger now.

But he stayed where he was. Tomorrow. He could wait for tomorrow.

***

Keishin woke up, bleary-eyed and heavy-headed, to the alarm on his phone ringing beside his head and Takeda already halfway out the door. Curses tumbling from his lips, he scrambled into his clothes, tugging a headband in place and hoping none of the kids would notice how terrible he looked. Or at least that they’d have the decency not to point it out.

At breakfast, Keishin hoped to have a quiet word with Takeda, but the first years needed him glaring over them to calm down enough to eat. And then it was into the morning warm-up and first set of games. As he walked along the sidelines of the court, he was aware of Takeda standing beside him in a way he’d never felt before. They kept up a steady stream of talk—notes on who still had to improve their receives or serves, explaining plays that the opposing team was using, strategizing what techniques could be scavenged to get the team through to the Spring tournament—and all the while, Keishin could feel his question from the night before burning on his tongue and lips. But with the cool-eyed team manager and the painfully timid assistant manager nearby, he couldn’t exactly go for it. Instead, he had to hold out for lunch and hope his chance would come then.

Except that lunch was all of the teachers and coaches crowded together at one table, dropping complaints about their students and bragging about how they were going to sweep the Spring tournament all in the same breath. And it was having to keep one eye on what Nishinoya and Tanaka were doing, trying to make sure that they didn’t give the poor Fukurodani first year seated between them a heart attack.

The day continued to unspool into chaos with the merest suggestion of order, tasks appearing and expanding to keep them both busy until supper was over and done with. As Keishin watched the kids troop off back towards the courts and the dorm for their evening free time, he hoped that now would be his chance. He and Takeda could go off somewhere quiet, before the other teachers could rope them into another night of drinking.

“Kei-kun,” Nekomata grumbled behind Keishin, dropping one gnarled hand onto his shoulder.

Keishin turned in his chair, desperately hoping this was going to be Nekomata telling him that he was old and tired and had no interest in going out again.

“Coaches are going to watch game tape tonight in Yamiji’s office. If you can get your kids to Nationals, there are some teams that you’re going to want to watch.”

All of the excuses Keishin had been preparing crumbled to dust and he felt something uncomfortably like guilt. The purpose of this trip was to get the team through to Nationals, not for him to relieve an itch. They’d been given this chance, not only for the practice games this week, but to make connections that would allow them to have practice games against strong teams in the years to come. And the chance to not only watch game tapes of schools outside of Miyagi, but to also hear the thoughts and reactions of coaches from some of Tokyo’s top powerhouse schools was too important to miss.

“Ah, yeah. Are we all heading there now?” He asked.

“Soon. Takeda-sensei has joined Naoi for a beer run. When they get back we’ll begin.”

“Great, I’ll just go get my notebook and then I’ll meet you all there.”

Nekomata gave him that feline grin of his that was all teeth. Already, Keishin could hear echoes of the hangover to come and he wondered how much he’d have to drink.

When he finally found the office, all of the other coaches were already spread around the room. Stepping inside was like being tugged under by a rip current; one moment he’d been out in the relative cool and quiet of the hallway and the next he was drowning in heat and chatter. On one end, a tv had been set up with a volleyball game playing, but most people’s attention was more focussed on the drinks in front of them and the pockets of conversation flowing around the room.

Without thinking, his eyes sought out Takeda and found him perched on a low, sagging couch between the Yamiji and Naoi. Yamiji had his phone out and was displaying it with the sort of puffed up pride that could only mean pictures of his children. From the weak smiles and nods, it must’ve been going on for quite some time.

Takeda looked up and caught Keishin’s gaze, a small, shy smile lighting up his face. He subtly nodded to either side and lifted his shoulders in a  _ what can you do _ type gesture.

Keishin nodded, smiling a little, and jerked his chin towards the one free chair on the opposite end of the room. As he picked his way over the tangle of legs and mess of bottles and cups, a cold can was pressed into his hand. He said a quick word of thanks, but when he reached his seat he quietly set it down on the floor beside him.

It didn’t matter if he had to wait all night, there was no way that he’d let himself get drunk tonight—not when he still wanted to have that talk with Takeda.

Despite his impatience for the evening to end, he still found himself getting sucked into the evening’s entertainment. Nekomata had forced one of the assistant coaches out of the chair near Keishin, and soon the two got into a lively analysis of the game they were watching. In a strange way, it felt oddly nostalgic for Keishin—like being back at his grandfather’s house on a Sunday, listening to the old man grumble his way through the tapes, surrounded by the smell of sweat and IcyHot and beer.

“See that,” Nekomata said, hunching forward and jabbing a finger at the screen. “That serve is what we’ve all got to look out for in the spring. Kid might be serving missiles right now, but if he can learn a little control those will be undiggable.”

Keishin nodded, his pen darting across the page of his notebook as he wrote down the kid’s number, and then quickly added the number of the team’s libero. The player didn’t have Nishinoya’s flair, but he had a steady competency that was unnerving. Another in a long list of teams that would be hard to beat if Karasuno could just make it to Nationals. And that still meant having to get past Date Tech and Aoba Josai. And Shiratoriza _. _

Already, Keishin could feel panic starting to rise, remembering how crushed the kids had looked after the Aoba Josai match during Inter-high and the soft sounds of their tears during the meal after. They’d all seemed to have bounced back, throwing themselves harder into their practices, but what if they lost again? What if they lost to Aoba Josai again? 

A warm hand thumped against his shoulder, jerking him out of his thoughts and causing him to choke a little on his beer.

“Whatever you’re thinking about right now, forget it,” Nekomata said, his voice gruff. “You need to get some of your grandfather’s confidence. Your boys are growing strong and learning. First year coaching and you lucked out with a real good team. I’m sure that this year we’ll finally get to have our Battle of the Trash Heap.”

Keishin snuck a side glance at Nekomata. The old man’s face was still focussed on the screen in front of them, but his eyes were bright and intent, and there was a feeling of assurance that rolled off him. It was impossible not to believe that the fated game was finally going to happen this year.

“Of course. It’s just a shame that Nekoma’s run at Nationals will end there,” Keishin said dryly.

Nekomata snapped a glare at Keishin, lightly smacking the back of his head.

“It’s good for youth to have aspirations, but it’s important to stay realistic,” Nekomata sneered.

“Oh yeah?”

They were saved from any more posturing by the arrival of Takeda.

“Everything going alright?” Takeda asked in the cautious tone that he always took when one of their problem kids had managed to stumble into some sort of trouble.

“Just the delusions of youth,” Nekomata said.

“The fog of old age,” Keishin shot back.

Takeda’s head whipped back and forth between the two, and he smiled.

“Ah. Well, I was hoping to borrow Ukai-kun. We have a few things to discuss—”

Nekomata didn’t even let Takeda finish. Instead, he waved towards Keishin and said, “Take him. It’s late and I need to get home to my bed.”

With a groan and the audible sound of joints popping, Nekomata rose up from the couch and shuffled towards the door.

As the evening had progressed, Keishin had been too caught up in watching the games and listening to Nekomata’s comments to notice what was happening in the rest of the room. But now, he realized that he and Takeda were the only ones left. Someone had turned off all the lights except for the small lamp on Yamiji’s desk. Suddenly the room, big enough for all of the coaches earlier, felt so much smaller, the shadows and flickering of the TV creating a fragile intimacy.

Keishin’s mouth went dry as he realized that this was the chance he’d been waiting for all day. The speech that had been twisting through his thoughts in between volleyball plays and ideas for new drills tangled in on itself.

Words had never been one of his strengths. He couldn’t hope to have Takeda’s way with speeches, so instead he reached out to grab Takeda’s wrist.

Takeda’s skin was so soft, and beneath Keishin’s fingertips he felt his pulse flutter. When he stroked his thumb over that pulse point, Keishin heard Takeda suck in a deep breath. Their eyes met and Keishin’s heart thudded in his chest. Carefully, he pulled Takeda in towards the couch and tugged him down until they were sitting side by side.

He could feel every point of contact: their knees pressed together, the slight weight of Takeda’s wrist where it was draped across Keishin’s thigh, the warmth of skin beneath his fingers where he still held Takeda. And now he was once again surrounded by the familiar scent of coconut, each breath pulling his thoughts farther and farther apart. All he could think about was the curve of Takeda’s lips, how full they were, what they might feel like.

“So, last night…” Takeda said, his voice quiet.

“I meant it.”

“Truly?”

“Do I ever say anything I don’t mean?” Keishin grumbled, his fingers tightening around Takeda’s wrist.

“Well, you said that you absolutely wouldn’t help coach the volleyball team, and here we are…” Takeda’s smile was a little cheeky, his eyes teasing.

Keishin groaned and dropped his forehead against Takeda’s shoulder.

“You can’t hold that against me. And I meant it at the time, I was just no match for your unfair tactics.”

Now they were close enough that Keishin could smell the faintly sweet odour of sweat along with the coconut soap, could feel the slight brush of Takeda’s breath as it ruffled his hair and teased his neck. A shiver chased its way down his spine and a tightness began to build in his groin, low and insistent.

“Do you regret it?” Takeda whispered.

Keishin lifted up his head to meet Takeda’s eyes.

“Why would I?”

“It’s a lot of time, and so much work. I won’t regret getting you to agree—you’re one of the best things that could’ve happened to the team—”

“You mean other than our freak quick attack?”

“Yes, other than our terrifying duo. I can’t regret it, but I still feel a little…” Takeda shrugged and smiled weakly.

Keishin finally let go of Takeda’s wrist and reached up to slide one hand along his jaw.

“Don’t. Whatever you’re going to say, don’t. I might’ve been reluctant to start, but I’ve enjoyed it. Teaching volleyball. Getting to know the kids. Getting to know you.” Keishin took a quick breath and then added, “Go on that date with me.”

“Okay.”

The response was so quick and so quiet that Keishin nearly missed it.

“Yeah?” he said gruffly, needing to make absolutely sure.

“Yeah.”

Surging forward, Keishin pressed his mouth against Takeda’s, feeling the slight catch of his own chapped skin against Takeda’s soft lips. He angled Takeda’s jaw a bit, and then pressed his tongue against the seam of Takeda’s mouth. On a sigh, Takeda opened up, allowing Keishin a chance to taste. His tongue darted in, testing with gentle, teasing flicks and then turning demanding. He tasted the sweetness of sake and something that was purely Takeda. When Takeda reached up, his fingers sliding over Keishin’s shoulder to grip into the muscle through the cotton of his t-shirt, he felt ripples of the touch all the way down to his groin.

They pulled apart with a gasp, lips shiny and wet. One of Takeda’s hands traced the line of Keishin’s shoulder up to his neck and then around to his nape. His fingers toyed with the collar of Keishin’s shirt, dipping underneath to brush teasingly against his skin. They were just feather-light touches, skimming across skin, but they had Keishin desperate for more. He wanted to get rid of the layers between them and to have Takeda’s touch turning bolder and stronger.

The dusting of pink in Takeda’s cheeks and across the bridge of his nose was cute enough to make Keishin’s heart lurch. Keishin gave into the need that was humming through his whole body and claimed Takeda’s mouth in another kiss. This one blew straight past gentle exploration and went straight to demanding. With each brush of their tongues, heat coiled tighter in Keishin’s belly, his cock starting to ache with the need for this to go further.

“We should probably pause here,” Takeda said between ragged breaths when they finally pulled away.

Keishin took an unsteady breath, trying to push through the light-headedness and the painful throb of his erection to manage any sort of thoughts.

“If…if you want,” he said, his voice rough.

“It’s not that I want to, but,” Takeda said, his voice tight with a desperate frustration that seemed to match Keishin’s, “we’re here for a school training camp. We’re chaperones. I’m a  _ teacher. _ I don’t even think the door is locked right now, and anyone could just…I can’t just…It’s not exactly professional, right?”

The logic of what he said made a painful sense. Keishin couldn’t have given less of a shit about being professional—he wasn’t even a school employee—but he cared about whether Takeda was uncomfortable. 

“It’s fine. We can stop here. Or, would it be okay for us to just keep doing this? Making out like a teenager isn’t nearly as unprofessional.”

Takeda was quiet for a moment, and then he exhaled sharply, pulling out of Keishin’s touch and rising up from the couch. Keishin felt a crash of disappointment like a cascade of cold water through his body, but he didn’t say anything. He was an adult, and it wouldn’t be forever. Just to the end of the training camp. God, could he survive that long, seeing Takeda all day every day? Sharing a room? Sharing a bath?

With a groan, Keishin scrubbed his palms over his face. It would be fine.  _ He _ would be fine, just miserably horny. He could live with that.

“Come on,” Takeda said, reaching out to tug Keishin up from the couch.

He towed Keishin through the office, turning off the desk light as they passed and leading him out into the hall. The corridor outside was sharp and bright after the comfortable dim of the office; Keishin half expected Takeda to let him go with the mood effectively killed, but Takeda’s fingers tightened around his wrist.

They slipped through the hum of fluorescent lighting until they reached the door to the outside. It was only when they paused to change their shoes that Takeda finally let go of Keishin. He paused with one hand on the door and gave Keishin a look, his teeth worrying at his bottom lip. Keishin’s stomach fluttered and his pulse stuttered with the memory of what those lips had felt like. 

“It might be okay, if it’s in our room,” Takeda said.

Keishin’s whole body sharpened with need at the amount of longing that rang through Takeda’s words.

“Are you sure?”

Takeda pushed the door open and stepped out into the night, Keishin following him closely. In the dark, Keishin only caught the motion of Takeda’s nod, not his expression.

“I could wait,” he offered, his aching erection hating him for saying it. “Just until we get back to Miyagi. We could drop the kids off at the school and then go on that date.”

“I want that. A date. The one you mentioned, seeing the fields at night. But right now, I want to finish what we started. Somewhere with a locked door.”

Keishin swallowed heavily, his fingers burning with the urge to reach over and touch Takeda. Instead, he hurried along the paths towards the dorm. They could still see one or two lights glowing behind closed curtains on the ground floor where the other coaches who were staying on campus were still awake, but otherwise it felt like they were the only two people in the world.

It wasn’t long before they entered the building, closing the door behind them as quietly as possible. They toed off their shoes and then hurried down the hallway towards their room. The moment they were inside, the door barely shut and the lock flicked, Takeda was crashing up into Keishin.

His mouth, warm and wet, pressed against Keishin’s in a kiss that was all hunger. It was a relief for Keishin to see that it wasn’t just him. He answered back with just as much need, losing all finesse. From shoulder to thigh they were plastered against each other, and Keishin could feel the press of Takeda’s erection between them. When he sucked one of Takeda’s velvety lips into his mouth, tugging at it with his teeth, he felt Takeda shiver and rock his hips in closer.

Slowly, Keishin widened his legs a little, maneuvering Takeda until he was straddling one thigh. With his palm pressing into the crisp fabric of Takeda’s trousers, Keishin squeezed and molded Takeda’s ass. It was firm and tight and had Keishin desperate to turn on the lights and strip Takeda down so that he could get a proper look. Takeda rolled his hips against Keishin’s, his erection rubbing between them and his breaths growing fast and tight.

Takeda’s fingers slipped under Keishin’s shirt and stroked up from his waist to his ribs and back. The second time they made that path, Takeda used his nails; electricity pulsed through Keishin’s veins. He tugged Takeda in harder and plunged his tongue back into Takeda’s mouth.

“Oh god,” Takeda murmured, finally pulling his lips away. “I don’t know how long I can last. Not if we keep on like this. It’s been a while for me. And I really want to feel you inside me.”

All of the blood rushed to Keishin’s cock at Takeda’s words and he whimpered.

“How? How do you always manage to be so…unexpected? You’re supposed to be the sensible one. You  _ were _ the sensible one not five minutes ago, and now…” Keishin trailed off as he felt Takeda’s hand slide down from his waist over his jeans to trace along the ridge of his cock. It was almost as though he could feel the slow drag of Takeda’s fingers against his bare skin, and this time it was Keishin who rocked forward into the touch. When Takeda stepped back, his hands dropping, Keishin thought he might have to be the one to start begging.

“Do you have any condoms?” Takeda asked as he tugged his shirt over his head.

Even in the dark of the room, Keishin could see how beautiful Takeda was. He wasn’t particularly well-muscled, but he was all pale skin and elegant lines and curves. Keishin’s eyes drank in everything, and he promised himself he’d explore all of it with his fingers and then again with his tongue.

“Condoms?” Takeda repeated, though there was a teasing smile on his lips.

Keishin could only nod, particularly when Takeda started to slide his trousers down. Keishin dragged his suddenly sweaty palms along the thighs of his jeans and tried to ignore how intimate the whisper of fabric on skin sounded.

He knelt in front of his bag and fumbled with one of the side pockets until he found the bottle of travel-size lube and a handful of condoms. When he turned around, items in hand, Takeda was already seated on his futon in just his briefs.

“Are you always that prepared?” Takeda said.

“Takinoue. He and Shimada were over for beers the night I was packing and he wouldn’t shut up until I put them in. I meant to take them out after they left, but I forgot.”

“Fate maybe?”

“Maybe.”

Takeda reached out one hand and grabbed hold of Keishin’s collar, the fabric going taut and brushing against his already sensitive skin. He let himself be pulled closer until he was kneeling just in front of Takeda, feeling the expanse of warm bare skin calling for him. Before he could do anything, Takeda let go of his collar and started to lift the hem of his shirt to pull it up. Being undressed by Takeda was a torture of a thousand fleeting touches, and by the time his shirt was finally over his head, Keishin’s chest and back were lit up with fireworks.

He quickly took care of his own jeans, not sure what would happen if Takeda had taken initiative with that as well. When he was finally down to just his briefs, he crawled closer and gently pressed one palm against Takeda’s bare thigh. He stroked his hand up, enjoying the faint tickle of hair against his palm. Takeda’s gaze was locked on him, and as Keishin neared his tented briefs, his eyelids fluttered down and his breath came out in a sigh.

The small thread of restraint that had Keishin moving slow snapped. He took Takeda’s lips in a rough, bruising kiss while he reached one hand into Takeda’s briefs to grab hold of his erection. He pumped his fist along the hot flesh, the velvety soft skin and slick stickiness of precum fuelling the coiling pressure low in his hips. 

Takeda groaned into Keishin’s mouth and speared his fingers through Keishin’s hair. For a moment his fingers tangled in Keishin’s ever present headband before he pulled it off and flung it across the room. Then his fingers were back, nails dragging against Keishin’s scalp, setting off tingles that raced down his spine and making him tighten his fist around Takeda’s length. Takeda bucked up into his touch, panting against his mouth in damp puffs of air.

When Keishin moved his kisses down to Takeda’s neck, he felt those fingers tug at his hair, and his spine melted.

“No marks where they can be seen. Not right now at least,” Takeda said between pants as he guided Keishin’s mouth down to the lovely dip of his collarbones.

In the dark, Keishin could only see faint shadows of the marks he’d sucked into Takeda’s skin, the slight sheen of saliva, but he felt a satisfaction that went straight to his neglected cock. He worked his way down to one of Takeda’s flat nipples and pulled it into his mouth, enjoying the wet pop when he let go and the way that Takeda shivered against him.

He felt Takeda’s body grow tight underneath him, his hips moving restlessly up into Keishin’s grip even as his whimpers filled the room.

Keishin could spend a whole night doing just this, driving Takeda up to the very edge and seeing how long he could keep him there, but his own body was screaming out a demand for release. His briefs were cool and wet against his erection where he’d been leaking precum, and deep within his gut there was that infernal pressure demanding that he bury himself inside Takeda.

He let go of Takeda’s cock and worked the briefs down the rest of the way. Without missing a beat, Takeda slid his hands out of Keishin’s hair, taking the chance to drag his nails lightly down Keishin’s neck before he flipped over, arching his back and lifting his ass.

The pale globes practically glowed in the darkness and Keishin swept his hands over the soft skin. He massaged into the tight muscle, watching the way Takeda pressed back into his touch. He grabbed the bottle of lube and set one of the condom packets beside his knee. 

The lube was cool against his fingers as he started to trace Takeda’s tight entrance. Gently he pushed one slick finger inside, and the heat that surrounded him made his cock pulse and his breath catch with a rasp in his throat. In front of him, Takeda was making small needy noises as he pressed back into the stretch.

“More,” Takeda said like a prayer.

That was all the encouragement Keishin needed to push a second finger in. It was tight, the ring of muscle clenching around his fingers, and he could hear the sloppy sound of his fingers moving. As he worked Takeda open enough to take his cock, he angled his fingers, trying to find Takeda’s prostate. It had been a while since he’d done this to anyone but himself, but he was sure he was close to the right spot. He found the slightly spongy area just before he heard Takeda’s throaty cry. Keishin exploited the spot mercilessly, pressing kisses against Takeda’s sweat salty back until he felt Takeda’s hips jerk erratically beneath him.

Keishin pulled his fingers out, the noise wet and filthy. Takeda turned to look over his shoulder, his teeth driving into his lower lip and his eyes pleading.

“Tell me you’re going to put your cock in me now. Please. I can’t take much more.”

Keishin’s only response was to tear open the waiting condom and pull it on. Just that touch alone was enough for his vision to go spotty. He drizzled more lube over his length, gritting his teeth hard enough for his jaw to ache as he spread it over his cock, and then—finally—he lined himself up.

Takeda’s hole was still tight enough that he had to work a little to push inside to the wet heat that waited. And then he was inside, Takeda surrounding him, gripping him and sucking him in. He started slow, pulling out with a wet slide and then slamming forward, his hands digging into Takeda’s hips. Each time he bottomed out, he felt that coiling pressure grow tighter.

Takeda started to rock back against him and Keishin’s pace slipped. He pounded into Takeda until the room was filled with the sounds of flesh slapping against flesh, Takeda’s breathy cries, and Keishin’s lower moans.

When Keishin felt his orgasm closing in, that familiar hum just under his skin and the tightness low in his belly, he leaned in close so that he could reach around to grip Takeda’s cock. Precum trailed down from the tip to a damp spot on the futon. Keishin slid his hand over the slick head, and then began to pump his fist tight and fast.

He felt Takeda’s body go tight beneath him and then a hot spurt of cum across his knuckles as he came. The hot grip of Takeda’s body on Keishin’s own cock and the helpless bucking of his hips were enough to pull him over the edge.

All of the pressure in his body released in a wave that swept from his hips down to his toes and sent stars spinning in front of his eyes. His hips jerked forward as he rode out the waves of pleasure, feeling his release fill the condom.

They both collapsed against the futon, and Keishin pulled out and removed the condom. On shaky limbs, feeling like a wrung-out rag, he stood up and walked over to the trash bin. On the way, he grabbed a few tissues out of his bag, tying off the condom and then wrapping it up well before he tossed it out.

Turning around, Keishin saw Takeda lying on the thin mattress, his chest flushed and legs splayed, looking heartbreakingly beautiful and wanton in a way that sent small sparks fluttering up through Keishin’s chest. He wanted to do nothing more than lie down, pull Takeda into his chest, and doze until they were both ready for round two. But it was already late enough that breakfast in a few hours would be brutal.

He walked back to the futon and crouched down beside Takeda.

“C’mon, you need to get up. Do you need a hand?”

“Let me rest. Better yet, join me.”

Keishin sighed and sent a prayer to the heavens for willpower.

“We both need a bath, unless you want to have to explain why you’re sore tomorrow.”

Takeda nodded slowly and pushed himself up, groaning softly.

“How come you’re being so sensible now? You’re going to put me to shame.”

Keishen, who’d already got up to pull on a pair of baggy sweats and a loose tank top, looked over and smiled.

“It’s fine. Sensei can take a bit of a break from time to time. We’ll take turns being the sensible one. You can count on me.”

“Can I?”

Keishin tugged his shirt down and walked over to where Takeda was struggling to get into his own clothes. He pressed a kiss to Takeda’s lips, though it was little more than a chaste brush of skin against skin, and then took Takeda’s shirt and helped him into it.

“Yeah, you can. For whatever you need. For however long.”

Takeda stared at him long enough that Keishin wondered if it had been too much too fast. Though of course it was. It’s just that once Keishin decided on a course of action, he was one to see it through––to do it properly. And now that he knew how he felt about Takeda, he wanted to make sure there was no more ambiguity. For him at least, this wasn’t a training camp hookup never to be mentioned again once they all returned home. He wanted to keep working with Takeda, to keep the steady teamwork they’d been building, but he also wanted the dates. And the sex; god, did he want more of the sex.

“Careful,” Takeda said as he gathered up his wash bag, “I might take you up on that.”

“Good.”

Takeda’s answering smile lit something bold and bright in Keishin’s chest, and when Takeda reached out to take his hand, interlacing their fingers and leading him out into the hallway, he couldn’t help but feel excited for what was to come.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> You can find me on Tumblr at thewesterndoor


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